


Double-D's Get Degrees

by MsMK



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tentacles (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, M/M, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Oral Sex, Orgy, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Skeleton Sex (Undertale), Slow Romance, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, Undertail, Undertail University, University, slow-burn romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2018-11-29 16:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMK/pseuds/MsMK
Summary: Sex.In human culture, it is both vilified as well as romanticized. Young people are both discouraged and encouraged to have it, and especially in a college party atmosphere, the mixed signals can be stressful.Then the monsters came to the surface, and from the other universes. It was never fully explained why or how, but it happened, and they were quick to stick together. Within months, Undertail University was founded by Dr. W. D. Gaster, and it gained a reputation as a thriving college atmosphere that boasted high graduation and success rates. It also boasted a very different view of sex, one that monsters had been entertaining for centuries.Somehow, against all odds and despite what people said, you’d applied.Somehow, you’d been accepted.And somehow, for some unknown reason...you’d enrolled.(Based on the headcanons of Skelltales and the #discordcrew on Tumblr, as well as some of my own. Written with permission.)





	1. Orientation

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Undertail University, as created by [Skelltales](https://skelltales.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! Thank you so much for allowing me to use them to write this!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet with your Resident Advisor and your guidance counselor to finish the necessary paperwork...not expecting them both to be skeletons.

Sex.

In human culture, it is both vilified as well as romanticized. Young people are both discouraged and encouraged to have it, and especially in a college party atmosphere, the mixed signals can be stressful.

Then the monsters came to the surface, and from the other universes. It was never fully explained why or how, but it happened, and they were quick to stick together. Within months, Undertail University was founded by Dr. W. D. Gaster, and it gained a reputation as a thriving college atmosphere that boasted high graduation and success rates. It also boasted a very different view of sex, one that monsters had been entertaining for centuries.

Somehow, against all odds and despite what people said, you’d applied.

Somehow, you’d been accepted.

And somehow, for some unknown reason...you’d enrolled.

* * *

You straightened your skirt, the blue and white plaid falling nicely over your hips. You hadn’t been thrilled when you learned your new college was requiring uniforms, but it actually felt...nice. You ran a hand through your hair absently. It’d been a bit of a pull to get one of the few single occupant rooms, and it was right next to the RA’s, but...that’s alright. You have severe anxiety about sharing living spaces, so the school made an exception.

You’d heard...things...about this school. They had an open fraternization policy, which meant that most students that went here and most teachers that worked here were open to sex anywhere and everywhere on campus. It was a tactic introduced to humans by the monsters that had emerged from the underground, who were generally not as stuffy about things like sex, and supposedly it wasn’t unusual to find orgies in the library, the cafeteria, the hallway...apparently it had something to do with satisfying all your basic needs before trying to learn, in order to facilitate a better, more relaxed learning atmosphere.

Or...something like that.

You weren’t exactly against it. When you’d filled out the paperwork, though, you’d been confused, so it was time to meet with your RA and Guidance counselor to finish the forms you’d missed.

You knocked on the RA’s door, wondering what kind of person, or monster, you’d be met with. You’d already seen a handful of students that were decidedly human, and the RA is supposed to be a student as well, so--

The door swung open to reveal a skeleton monster, not unlike the picture of your astronomy professor, but much younger, and...missing an arm? You tried, and failed, not to look alarmed. His grin seemed fixed on his face as he looked you over.

“oh, ‘ello there, bird,” he drawled, thick australian accent falling from his teeth. “hows’t goin’?”

“Uhm...are you…” You squinted at the smudged writing on the back of your hand, a bad habit of yours. “Oz?”

“th’one an’ only...sort of.” He glanced down at the name badge hanging around your neck. “y/n...oh, right, you’re th’one tha’s my new neighbor. you’re here to talk to papyrus?”

“Th-the guidance counselor, right!”

He nodded understandingly.

“coach! that bird you mentioned jus’ flew in!” He called behind him, stepping aside to allow you to move past him. You hurried in, and he closed the door behind you.

“AH! MISS Y/N! I’M GLAD TO SEE YOU’VE ARRIVED ON TIME!”

A taller skeleton appeared from what seemed to be the kitchen, dressed in sweatpants and a shirt that said “COACH COOL DUDE” in big block letters.

...This is the guidance counselor?

“you had questions ‘bout the paperwork, right?” Oz asked, leaning against the wall next to you.

“YES! LET US GET TO THAT! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I AM YOUR GUIDANCE COUNSELOR, AS WELL AS ONE OF THE ATHLETIC COACHES ON CAMPUS!” The tall skeleton declared proudly, seizing your hand and pumping it vigorously. He then held tight to it and pulled you to the couch, making you sit, before turning to gather his papers from the coffee table.

Your head was spinning as he launched into a tirade about the papers, talking much too fast for you to follow. Oz slid into the seat next to you and leaned over to translate.

“th’paperwork you’re missin’...it’s the consent forms, right?” You nodded. “basically, if you don’t wanna have the teachers make passes atcha, we put a lil’asterisk sticker right here.” He pointed to your name badge. “an’ on your file.”

“But...what does that  _ mean _ ?” You asked, perplexed. “Like, they can just… whenever?”

“pretty much. but, you can stop them with the safeword at any time if you aren’t feelin’ it. safeword’s clementines, by the way, for the whole school.”

“But what about--”

“stds? pregnancy?” You nodded sheepishly, and he chuckled, throwing his only arm over the back of the couch, almost over your shoulders. “monsters can’t get those, n’the only way to get preggers from us is for both of us to want it, so no worries there. you’ll learn the rest of the details at the sexual safety seminar tonight.”

“Isn't it weird to hook up at random like that?” He gave you a non-committal shrug. “Okay...and the open policy applies between students, too?”

“nope. tried tha’, ended up with lots of people droppin’ out t’have babies. no, tha’s handled the regular way, i s’pose. that is, there's no rule ‘gainst it, but youse don't have free reign o’each other like that. jus’ the staff.”

You lapsed into silence after that, staring at the checkmarks on the paper Papyrus had handed you.

 

  * I consent to engage in these acts with the staff at this school, and understand the safeword and terms of agreement
  * I do not consent, please issue an asterisk sticker to me as proof of my non-consent



 

Hmm...well, you’d heard amazing things about the graduates here, all of which highly praise the system of open fraternization. Some people even graduate one or two years early because they’re able to focus well enough and de-stress at a high rate. If you’d like to be a teacher by the time you’re 25, this is the place to do it...so why not play by their rules.

Oz watched with interest as your ticked your choice on the form: “I Consent”. He smirked, happy to see you embracing monster culture as it was. He hoped that you wouldn’t get too much trouble right away from the professors, but...his eyes glanced at your thighs, and the way the uniform fell over them. You had “their type” written all over you. Red, for sure, and the librarian, Mutt...they’d be on you like white on rice. He could see Sans and Stretch taking an interest, and Boss has always been weak for hair like yours.

His smirk faded a little as he listed the teachers in his head. Tango. Pink. G. Green. Even Axe, in the cafeteria. They would  _ all _ like you. You were perfect for them.

“tell me somethin’, bird...you a virgin?”

You sputtered and fumbled your pen at the question, and he chuckled.

“Uh, uhm, no, not with...humans...but…”

“never  _ boned _ a monster then, eh?”

“Well, uh, never had the opportunity, I guess…” You stared down at the paper in your hands. “Though, uh...I guess that’s about to change?”

He sighed, reaching down for his vape pen from his pocket. Blue raspberry vapor swirled out of his mouth as he exhaled thoughtfully. 

“....A vape pen, really?” You giggled.

“don’t knock it, bird.”

“Aw, c’mon,” you giggled. “I’m just  _ ribbin’ _ ya.”

Oh no. You’re  _ punny.  _ They won’t leave you alone if they find out _.  _ His new human neighbor was in for a surprisingly  _ hard _ time at school.

* * *

After several hours discussing everything with Coach Papyrus, Oz showed you out the door to join him for the orientation. The halls of the dorm were teeming with students now, all bustling into the courtyard waiting for him to address them. You stuck close to his side to avoid bumping into anyone--your balance wasn't great to begin with, you didn't trust your feet to work if someone actively ran into you.

“a’ight, simmer down, you sorry sods!” He shouted as he reached the front of the group. “welcome to undertail university, where you can make your dreams a reality, and your fantasies will come true. believe it, tha’s what they make me say ev’rytime. i see a few asterisks on my list, jus’ remember that you  _ might _ walk into some things you aren't quite ready for in certain places, mates.”

A hand shot up in the crowd, but Oz ignored it.

“i’ll answer all the questions i know you’re gonna ask. my name is aussie, youse all can call me oz. yes, i’m a skel’ton monster, no i’m not the only one, half our staff is skeletons, and yes, we can have sex like normal. no, it’s not made of bone, and don’t worry, it feels _great_.” He paused to wink at you from where he stood on the makeshift stage, and you felt yourself blush. What a flirt! “yeah, i only got one arm. no, i didn't lose the other to a crocodile. yeah, my accent is real, and no, i won't quote steve irwin for ya.”

The hand sheepishly went down.

Oz pointed lazily to his left. “tha’s the school, for learnin’ an’ shit.” He pointed to his dorm room. “tha’s my place, ‘case ya need me. no booze, no drugs, quiet time is 11:00. are we done?”

The crowd erupts with a million questions, and you can just see his face fall and the sigh building in his chest. He clearly hates this. You're giggling at his distraught face when he catches your eye, and you just wave. He already feels like a close friend, maybe it'll make it all easier to adjust.

Coach Papyrus fell into place beside you, watching the crowd with humor as he turned to catch your attention. “MISS Y/N, IT COMPLETELY SLIPPED MY MIND THAT YOU NEED YOUR COURSE SCHEDULE. OUR SCHEDULE GOES IN MONTH-LONG BLOCKS OF FOUR CLASSES AT A TIME. THIS IS STANDARD FOR OUR GENERAL EDUCATION IN THE FIRST TWO SEMESTERS.”

“Oh, okay!” You took the schedule from him and looked it over. You remembered picking some of these courses as they looked interesting: On Mondays and Wednesdays you would have Intro to Astronomy, as well as Practical Builds and Basic Mechanics, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays you would have Basic Communications and...Modern Dance and Movement. Fridays were free. Yup, sounds about right. You had never been so excited to start a class schedule.

“AH! MY BROTHER TEACHES THAT CLASS!” Coach Papyrus declared proudly, pointing at “Intro to Astronomy”. His brother? “HIS NAME IS SANS. I THINK YOU’LL LIKE HIM, HE’S VERY LAID-BACK...LAZY MORE THAN ANYTHING, ACTUALLY.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You said, smiling up at him. He gave you a funny look, and then he smiled wide and swept you into a hug, making you squeak with surprise as his bones wrapped around you. “U-Uh!! Coach?!”

“I VERY MUCH LOOK FORWARD TO WORKING WITH YOU THIS YEAR, MISS Y/N!” He said, placing you back on your feet. “I SHALL LEAVE YOU WITH YOUR SCHEDULE AND PERHAPS I SHALL SEE YOU AROUND CAMPUS! DO NOT FORGET TO HAVE OZ FINISH OUT YOUR PAPERWORK TONIGHT BEFORE MIDNIGHT!”

“O-okay?” And he was gone, and the crowd was dispersing, leaving Oz to handle a few straggling questions while you held your now-crumpled school schedule.

This was going to be a strange experience.


	2. Starting Off With A Bang*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your first class goes...well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some hot classic action right off the bat for ya. Enjoy!

"now this is room 104-b. 104-a is empty... most the time. might find a stray teacher and student in here fuckin’ like there’s no t'morrow. one time walked in there only to find a fuckin’ orgy goin' on."

“Oh my  _ God _ !” You covered your blush with your hands, silently praying to whatever God did exist that Oz would just  _ stop talking about all the sex! _ You were just so used to humans acting like sex was something to keep quiet about...you couldn't help it.

“ now I'm not sayin’ i joined in completely. but I'm not saying i didn't either." He chuckled, bumping your shoulder as he walked next to you. “c’mon, now, birdie, gotta git used to this kinna thing. oops, step lively, or you’ll end up in the middle of  _ that _ .”

His arm snaked around your shoulder to direct you away, and when you glanced up, you nearly shrieked when you saw a student being fucked mercilessly against the wall by some kind of dog monster.

“mornin’, lesser dog!” Oz waved casually, and your sputtering words hardly caught up with your brain as you tried to comprehend what you’d seen. “l.d. teaches a class on monster rights, s’prisingly. dunno how he does it when’e can hardly speak english.”

“They really weren't kidding when they said people just do...that...everywhere,” you mumbled. He paused, causing you to startle as you bumped into him. “Oz?”

He turns to you mischievously. “ _ fuck _ . they  _ fuck _ everywhere. breed. copulate. have sex.  _ fuck _ .” He leans over you, face inches from yours. “say it.”

“Wh-what?”

“ya won’ git very far here if y’can’t even say the word. say ‘fuck’ for me, bird.”

Your wide-eyed stare of shock was adorable and hilarious. He just wanted to pinch your cheeks, such a sweet, innocent thing at a school like this. You'd change your mind about the consent form. He'd be issuing an asterisk sticker to you by morning. He chuckled and started to resume walking. You probably wouldn't even--

“ **_Fuck_ ** .” You breathed quietly.

He froze, halfway turned away from you when the word hit him like a dagger. He whipped his head around to stare at you in shock, which quickly melted into an easy smile as he ran his hand over his skull. “okay, firstly, birdie, that was hot as all hell to hear fallin’ from your mouth. secondly...heh. y’might make it yet. c’mon. i t.a. for professor sans, your firs’ class. let’s get inside.”

“OZ!”

You squeaked in surprise as a massive skeleton came from seemingly nowhere to grip Oz by the front of his yellow school sweater. He looked like a huge, terrifying version of Coach Papyrus, with several claw-like scars over his left eyesocket.

“somethin’ i can do for ya, coach?” Oz drawled, nonchalant. You gaped at him, wondering if that was a different coach or if your eyes were playing tricks on you.

“IT'S TIME FOR YOUR TRAINING!”

“now? but it ain't even tuesday.”

“I SAID NOW! YOU CANNOT SLACK ON YOUR TRAINING FOR EVEN ONE DAY IF YOU WANT TO BECOME AS GREAT AND TERRIBLE AS I!” The skeleton said, puffing his chest as he turned to drag Oz away by his shirt collar.

Oz leaned into it, allowing himself to be dragged away with a shit-eating grin on his face. “alright, guess there's no way ‘round it. tell the prof i’ll be a little late, eh, bird? on account-a coach boss n’his unquenchable _thirst_ ~”

“JUST FOR THAT I'M GOING TO GO EXTRA HARD ON YOU THIS TIME! WE'RE FIGHTING, NOT FUCKING!”

“whateva y’say, coach.”

* * *

Professor Sans was exactly like his pictures, though you didn't expect him to be 6 feet tall. He had a bone-print tie, but that was the only thing professional about his appearance: his dress shirt was wrinkled and untucked, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His suit pants were pressed, but you suspected it wasn't him who did it, but rather Papyrus, and a worn blue sweatshirt was draped over the back of his desk chair, rather than a suit jacket. This was all topped off by a lazy smile indicative of a teacher who simply doesn't care.

Or so you thought, before he called on you.

“you, there…” His hand landed on your desk with a slight  _ click _ , and he leaned down to catch your eye. “name three galaxies other than the milky way.”

“Uh...uhm...Andromedus...and…” you trailed off, not knowing any others. He chuckled slightly.

“dunno? okay, how about this. how big is earth’s sun?”

“In miles?”

“kilometers.”

“I...don't know.”

He tsked, and you felt your face grow warm as the students behind you started to whisper and giggle. He shot off question after question, things you weren't able to answer, until he was leaning back against your desk and facing away from you, snickering as you struggled to respond.

“what is dark matter?”

You don't know! That's why you're taking a class! You were looking down at your hands when you noticed your smart watch blinking. A text from...Oz?

 

**Oz-some:** it's matter that doesn't react 2 light in any way

 

“Matter that doesn't react to light in any way?” You mumbled out loud. The professor grew rigid for a moment in front of you.

“hey, that's pretty good, kid.” He chuckled, relaxing. It hit you--Oz just gave you the answer! You breathed a sigh of relief. “lucky guess, i’d say. alright, how far is the closest star, other than the sun?”

You glanced down at your watch. Oz had sent another text. “4.37 light-years away?” You repeated dutifully. You squeaked when he turned around, hand darting out to catch your wrist. 

“you're pretty smart, freshman. or maybe...your friends are?” He held up your wrist to inspect your smartwatch. “hmf. my own t.a., huh?”

He shot a look across the room where you could see Oz hiding his phone sheepishly. Sans chuckled, clicking the latch on your watch to remove it, setting it on his desk.

“What--”

“come on down here, sweetheart, and i’ll show you what we do with  _ cheaters _ in this class.” He said, pulling slightly on your wrist to encourage you to follow. There was a dangerous tone to his words, as if it wasn’t a suggestion, so your legs followed him down the steps of the lecture hall to the front of the class, your heart hammering in your chest. When you got to his desk, he leaned against the edge of it.

“y’see, kiddo, this was all an exercise in stress management,” he mused, his hands sliding to his belt buckle. The lightbulb went off in your head. “i was gonna getcha flustered, getcha upset, maybe make you wanna cry, and then...well, then i was gonna demonstrate the school’s philosophy and help ya relieve that stress. but, since you hadta go an’ cheat your our way out of it, i gotta getcha stressed some other way. get on your knees.”

Your knees hit the floor without delay, and he chuckled.

“eager to please?”

“I...but...to interrupt the lecture, and...right here?”

“who said anythin’ about interruptin’ my lecture? nah, imma keep going, and you...your job is to make me cum before the bell rings. if not, then, well...it wouldn't look very good for a freshman to be sent to the dean’s office on the first day, now would it?”

You looked over at Oz, who seemed completely used to this. He grinned at you, raising his chin slightly as if to indicate what you should be focusing on. Hearing about it was one thing, but...well, it had surprised you, that's for sure.

“what? can’t do it?” The professor's voice rumbled above you. Something flared within you, that deep competitive nature you've always had. “tenacity? that's such a dirty soul color for such a pretty face, kid. let's see that tenacity get to work then, huh?”

His hands undid his belt buckle, and before you could blink he was pressing a huge blue member against your lips. You gasped in surprise, and he used the opportunity to slide it into your mouth. You made a muffled noise of surprise, and his hand quickly curled into your hair.

“as i was...oohhh, you're good at this, freshman.” He said, grinning down at you as you opened your mouth wider to take more in. “anyway, as i was sayin’, the idea of stress management is incredibly important to this school’s philosophy. me, i’m always relaxed, so it's nothin’ i gotta work for. but school, work, homework, tests, social life... _ humiliation _ …” His hand tightened on your hair momentarily, and then relaxed. “these are all things that cause stress. stress means less sleep, less sleep means more stress, and it's a vicious cycle. science proves that the most effective way of relievin’ stress is through sex. mmm...move your hand a little to the right, sweetheart. yeah, right there. so, as you've no doubt noticed...we're open to relieving your stress...any time…”

He launched right into a discussion of the syllabus, hand working it's own rhythm in your hair to guide you up and down on his cock. You couldn't even keep up with his words, focusing instead on the tingle of his magic on your tongue, the strange sensation no human dick could give you. It's shape was normal, but it's length and girth were bigger than you were used to, so you put your hands to work at the base of the shaft to help yourself. You didn't want to get sent to the Dean like this, obviously, and so you pulled out every trick you had.

It proved to be just enough, as his hand stilled your head back a bit, your lips only wrapping around the tip as he shuddered, spilling thick ropes of cum into your mouth. You swallowed several times, without being asked, and then you sighed, leaning back on your heels to look up at him.

“hmm...you're no beginner, that was pretty good.” He purred, releasing your hair and stroking it slightly. “stay back after class so we can discuss what you missed while you were down there. for now, return to your seat.”

He’s all business now, save for the deep navy flush marking his face and his joints as he redid his pants and offered you a hand. You took it hesitantly, and he pulled you to your feet. 

The class suddenly started clapping, and you remembered for the first time that you'd had an audience.

You were a deep crimson red as you slipped into your seat, and it was everything Oz could do to keep from laughing. He decided to shoot you a text, maybe tease you a little, but you beat him to it.

 

**Birdie:** Oh my God that was mortifying. Fuck you for helping! You totally knew!

**(xxx):** i didn't, actually. and don't be embarrassed, you did a great job. no new student has ever made him cum that fast, least not that i’ve seen. U still have 20 min of class left.

**Birdie:** how do u even text with only one hand

**(xxx):** i can do lots of things with only one hand, bird. just takes practice~♡

 

He took a great amount of pleasure knowing you could turn even redder than you'd been when you sat down.

* * *

“yeah, you got it, kid,” Sans said, grin widening as he watched you make the necessary notes for the syllabus and for tonight's reading. 

You were exceptionally quick to catch on, which is great because he was being very unhelpful, only nudging you slightly so that you ask the right questions. You were drawing close to the end of the syllabus, and he was actually hard-pressed to find a reason to keep you here.

He'll be honest, you had surprised him. When Oz had scoped you, and texted him about a monster virgin who looked good with a blush that would be in his a.m. class...well, he hadn't expected you to make him cum so fast, put it that way. Oz had almost ruined it, too, by texting you the answers...he'll have to talk to that boy later.

Long story short, he wanted more of you. He didn't want any other teacher on campus to have the pleasure of taking your monster v-card, not after that masterful taste he got this morning. If your  _ mouth _ felt so incredible, what must the rest of you be like? He wanted to own you, just a little bit, to have that piece of such a beautiful, intelligent person...he shook his skull a little. Working at this school had him so warped, he can't even appreciate a smart girl without thinking of railing them. But, if you were stressed out, hey, then he was just doing you a favor...right?

“Doctor Aster?”

“dr. aster is my father, the dean,” he retorted nonchalantly.

“Oh, uh, sorry...professor.”

“sweetheart, you've had my dick in your mouth and tasted my cum on your teeth. i  _ think _ you can bypass the formalities and call me sans.” He chuckled at your scandalized face. “in fact, new rule: if you know what someone's dick tastes like, you can  _ probably _ use their first name from then on.”

Oz was right. You looked really nice when you blushed like that.

“Uhh...Sans, then. Do you...do what we did in class today...every time?”

“you mean the humiliation thing? nah, i usually keep my class for learnin’ believe it or not. i prefer to do it in the library, or at least after class...why?” You kind of looked uncomfortable. “...did i push you too far? i mean, newbies always forget they can use the safeword, though, uh, woulda been hard to tell with the way you were on my dick.”

“No, it...wasn't too far. I was just...well, it left me pretty anxious, being watched like that. I'd prefer if you didn't do that to me again, until I get used to the idea of all this.”

“...so, what you're saying is...you'd like a break next time?”

You nodded sheepishly, the tension coiling in your shoulders. He gave you a wide grin and gestured for you to turn around. Confused, you obeyed.

The second his fingers hit your shoulders you squeaked in surprise, but you immediately melted as he massaged you with an expert's touch. His fingers were warm as they brushed aside your collar to press into the soft skin of your neck.

“y’know...s’my job to help my students out when they're stressed. even if i caused the stress to begin with.” His hands had easily undone the top button of your shirt and returned to your shoulders without you noticing. You were humming quietly as he pulled you against his chest, hands working the rest of the buttons on your blouse until it hung open. You gasped, but relaxed again as his warm ceramic fingers ran gently over your stomach. “whaddya say, sweetheart? wanna  _ bone _ ?”

“Y-yes,” you stuttered, your body burning with desire in every spot his fingers touched. You turned back towards him to see him remove his bone-print tie slowly.

“gimme your wrists.”

You did, and he tied them, the silk fabric rubbing against your skin as he gently knotted it in place. He tugged on your bound wrists until you were crawling into his lap, straddling him, and he leaned up to capture your mouth in a heated kiss.

You squeaked against his teeth as one of his hands slid underneath your uniform skirt, and your panties disappeared into thin air, leaving you bare underneath the plaid.

“Wha-what?” You stammered, pulling back. His chuckle reverberated in your chest as his hands gripped your bare hips underneath your skirt.

“magic, baby,” he purred, pulling you against his chest again. “don’t worry, i’ll give ‘em back after… ‘less you let me keep ‘em, in which case i won't say no.”

He hooked your bound wrists behind his neck, kissing you again, surprising you when he slipped a tingly magic tongue into your mouth to dance with yours, running along your bottom lip until the warmth spread from your core outward, and you were gasping for air.

When had he spread you out on his desk? He was so fast, you didn't even realize it until you opened your eyes and saw the fluorescent lights behind him as he crawled on top of you, trailing little nips and licks up your torso, hand pushing your bra down so he could swirl his tongue over your sensitive nipple. 

You keened beneath him, and he grinned against your skin. There was a time when he hadn't known how to draw those noises from a human, but he was happy for his experience now as he could use it on you. You yelped as he nipped a little too hard in his excitement, and then tensed up as the head of his cock pressed against your entrance, tingling slightly. He paused, but when he didn't hear the safeword or any other objections, he hooked his hands underneath you, pressing against the small of your back to pull you closer and he was pressing into you slowly, grunting as he struggled to sheathe himself in your tight pussy.

“damn, you're tight...don't worry, seein’ as you’re all  _ tied up _ , i’ll take the initiative and getcha nice and wet, babygirl.” He crooned sweetly, moving one hand from your back to brush your hair gently out of your face. You were trying and failing to get a hold on him, with your hands bound behind his neck still, but when he dipped closer to continue pressing into you, your hands found purchase on the back of his ribs where his shirt had fallen half-off. He took a sharp breath and shuddered as you firmly grasped them, and you could swear you heard a growl as he thrusted one more time, finally hilting his monster cock inside of you and making you yelp as he bumped against your cervix.

He groaned into your skin, hands massaging your lower back gently as you shook slightly, allowing you to get used to the feeling of his cock inside you. It was a long moment before you felt your body finally relax, the tingle of his magic warming you from the inside out, and when you leaned into him, he took it as a queue to start rocking against you, drawing moans from your mouth that you weren't even aware you could make.

He was right, he knew he'd love those sounds. He knew he'd love the feeling of you on his cock, as he slowly worked you to a lather on his desk in the empty lecture hall. And the way your hands tightened around his ribs...it was downright sinful, every movement, every touch, every whimper and moan. He'd initially thought your main trait might be magenta for tenacity, a perfect blend of determination and perseverance, but--he could see it now, your true color that had been buried by your life experience, making your soul glow pink. 

Passion.

And he felt it, and it made him shiver as it brushed over him, enveloping him. It'd been a long time since he'd felt this way when with a student. Was he letting his guard down too much? Probably. But you felt so good, as his breathing grew ragged and your voice called his name...he didn't really care.

You'd never felt anything like it--his magic set your body on fire until he could hardly thrust without making you cum, and you gasped as you came once more, and he pinned you still on the table, sockets slamming shut as he pumped his release into you, growling and sighing at the same time.

“heh. a+, kiddo, that was  _ out of this world _ . might have to give you extra credit for that.” He breathed.

You giggled as you blushed, embarrassed by the comment. It was that good for you, but you hadn't expected someone as experienced as him to compliment you like that. “I...thank you. That was my first time...with a monster…”

He chuckled, sliding off of you and redressing himself. “well, you're a natural. i think you’ll do just fine here, don't worry.” He pulled a drawer out and handed you a box of baby wipes, then leaned over and freed your hands from his tie so he could loop it back around his collar.

After you cleaned up, you squeaked in surprise as his hands dragged up your thighs, helping you pull your panties back in place. You held his shoulders for stability and lifted your butt so he could slide them on.

“y’know, you're quick to catch on to body language, sweetheart.” He said, almost impressed. He drummed his fingers on your thighs thoughtfully for a beat, and then leaned past where you were still seated on his desk to jot something down on the notepad behind you. You heard a rip and leaned back again, handing it to you. “gimme a call if you ever need some...private tutoring?”

“Do you give all your students your private cell number?” You asked incredulously.

“only the ones that leave me  _ starstruck _ .”

He admired your blush again as you slid off his desk and buttoned your blouse, leaning down to grab your bag. He hated to see you go, but he loved to watch you leave.

You were dressed and out the door by the time it hit you, his chuckle echoing in your head as your knees failed you, and you leaned heavily on the wall.

Wow.

Your  _ professor _ just asked for a second date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans gets the monster V-Card, starting the school year off with a bang


	3. Good Enough To Eat*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little teasing and a little lunch.  
> Things are getting interesting already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexy stuff: teasing  
> Some plot develops.

**Oz-some:** holy shit bird.

**(xxx):** what?!

**Oz-some:** i don't know wtf you did to Sans this morning but he's been dropping his clipboard and dazing out through his whole second lecture

**Oz-some:** break me off a piece of that

**(xxx):** har-de-har, I doubt it's really because of me

 

You rolled your eyes and pocketed your phone without waiting for his response. What makes him think it was you? He's fucked a ton of students before, and you probably weren't the only one this morning either. 

You scooted your tray down a little farther, examining the signs on the food court walls.

 

**do not waste food. OR ELSE.**

 

**leftover food can be given to the food court staff at the dish return pit**

 

**Today’s Lunch: Chef Axe Special**

 

The last one looked like it was supposed to change every day, but the way it was written out made it seem like nobody had changed it in years. Weird.

“you look good enough to  _ eat _ ...but i’ll settle for feedin’ ya.”

You jumped, startled by the new voice, and you turned to look through the kitchen window to see another skeleton monster with a grin plastered on his face and one huge red eyelight that was rolling sickeningly down your form. His name tag said ‘Axe’, but he'd crossed it out and sloppily written ‘Sans’. You wondered if that was a joke or what...he did kinda look like Sans, save for the huge red eye and the sizeable hole in his skull.

“lemme  _ axe you. _ you gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna take somethin’?”

“S-sorry,” you mumbled sheepishly, taking one of the bowls of salad and a slice of pizza.

“humans are so weird. ya take a pizza and then you think it'll even out if ya eat a salad,” he snorted, leaning back and crossing his arms, watching you. “why don't cannibals eat vegetables?”

The joke setup caught you off-guard, so you just stared at him. He took your silence as an invitation to continue.

“cause it's difficult to swallow the wheelchair.”

Your eyes went wide, and after a tense beat of silence--you actually laughed. For some reason, you’ve always had a soft spot for terrible jokes, especially dark humor. “Oh, lord. That was bad.”

He was giving you a funny look, his eyelight constricting at your laughter. Were you not supposed to laugh? Oh, was...was it not a joke?

“i like a girl with a sense of humor.” He said finally, sliding a bowl of pudding onto your tray. “eat. you’re too skinny.”

Without further ado, he turned and stomped back into the kitchen, his grin slightly wider than before.

How strange.

* * *

Professor Red was as laid-back as Sans, but with a hungry look in his eyes and wandering hands. You’d heard he was very touchy, and that he makes a move on someone every class. He must be a little tired or something, though, because he skipped the lecture and put on some safety videos, spending most of his time sidling up to students he thinks are cute and laying his head down.

He'd done so for you, anyway, sliding onto the bench beside you, hands shamelessly dipping down the small of your back to slide over the curve of your ass.

“y/n, huh? heard some good things about you from professor  _ starstruck _ .” He muttered into your ear, his warm breath fanning over your neck and making you shudder. “s’pretty difficult to gain a rep so fast in a school like this…”

His eyelights rolled over your body, appreciating how you filled out the uniform, examining the curve of your thighs and ass, the form of your breasts squeezing against the yellow school sweater. He was already imagining you naked, you were  _ absolutely _ his type.

“I didn’t really do anything,” you mumbled, glancing down at your hands on the table. Holy  _ shit _ , you looked good in red, he couldn’t help but think as he stared at your blossoming blush….he wondered if you’d look as good  _ on _ it.

“hmf...don’t be so modest, sweetheart…” You jumped a little when his hand landed on your knee, his soft red plaid shirt rubbing lightly against your arm as he reached over. He smelled a bit like mustard, and motor oil, as he scooted closer, his femurs touching your thighs. “you watchin’, freshman? s’pretty important safety information.”

You snapped your head up to look at the screen, his chuckle rumbling next to you.

“ _...must not remove or make ineffective any safeguards, unless authorized. Safeguards removed for repairs must be replaced promptly or temporary guards installed… _ ”

His fingers drummed up your thighs, a quiet hum emanating from his chest as he slipped underneath your skirt.

“... _ No machine shall be left unattended while it is in motion, and no project should be left… _ ”

You bit your lip as his phalanges rubbed your heat through your panties, and his grin widened as he leaned his head against his other hand, propping his elbow on the table.

“ _...Revolving shafting, although apparently smooth, will catch loose or ragged clothing, hair or wiping rags… _ ”

He was definitely imagining some revolving shafting tearing your clothes off right now.

Your mind was racing as he pressed against your clit, the fabric of your panties rubbing pleasantly against you. You quietly slid your hands into your lap, dipping beneath your skirt to move your panties to the side, and his fingers graciously slid down to caress your folds gently...

The ring of the school bell caught you off guard and he retracted his hand, standing up and flashing you a grin and a wink as he returned to the front of the class.

“take your stupid copies of the syllabus and get out. see you wednesday,” he said, throwing a dismissive wave at the class as he disappeared into his office. The students clamored around you, collecting their things and their copies of the syllabus, leaving you to sheepishly push your panties back into place.

Red watched you slowly get up from the table and walk out of the classroom, his fingers pressed against his teeth as his tongue tasted you on them.

Oh, yeah. He definitely had to have another taste of  _ that _ .

* * *

Exhausted, you walked slowly back towards the dorms as the sun began to dip down behind the horizon. The school was so beautiful when bathed in the sunset, and the remaining warmth of the summer day had you sighing in relief.

You'd gotten your first time with a monster over with, at least. And it had been  _ amazing _ , by your standards. You were more relaxed than ever, even as your sex pulsed with heat from Professor Red’s unfinished ministrations.

You heard a chime and pulled out your phone, your smile widening as you saw your best friend’s name light up the screen. 

 

**Sam-I-Am:** Hey gurl, how’s ur first day? Fuck any teachers yet?

**(xxx):** Well…

**Sam-I-Am:** OMG U TOTALLY DID

**Sam-I-Am:** u gotta tell me everything on skype 2nite

**(xxx):** it’s not that big a deal!

**Sam-I-Am:** it’s a huge deal! Shut tf up and just call me when you get to your dorm

 

You chuckled at that, texting back a short promise. She was always such a gossip.

“This’ll be like food for her soul,” you mumbled to yourself.

“food for the soul, eh? sounds delicious...i’m  _ starvin’ _ .”

The voice sent a chill down your spine, and you fumbled your phone along with your footing. Strong, bony hands caught you from behind, and pretty soon you were pressed back against a warm ribcage, arms held tight.

“no need to be scared, lamb chop.” The voice purred. It sounded familiar...the chef from this afternoon. “y’know, i been tellin’ that joke to every new student for three years, an’ usually they get uncomfortable...imagine my surprise when a sweet little dish like you actually  _ laughed _ .”

One of the hands slid down your arm, and you could feel the nasty chips in it as he brushed his forearm against yours. His hand dipped beneath your skirt, and before you could process what was happening, there was a slight tug on your panties, and then his hand was gone and he released you.

You whirled around to face him, his one red eyelight staring at you, unwavering.

“I’m sorry if I offended you…” You said, hands clasped protectively over your breast under his predatory gaze. “I just...thought it was funny?”

“didn’t  _ offend _ me, sweet pea. in fact, if i didn't have plans with my brother tonight i’d probably have you face-down behind those bushes by now.”

_ Oh _ .

“Wow. I'm...flattered.”

“nah, you're terrified. but that's okay, i get that a lot.” He hooked one finger into his socket, tugging absently at it as he watched you closely. He  _ was _ scary, especially at night. Everything in you was screaming to run, but...well, he just seemed so nice? “it's alright to run away screamin’.”

“Well, I can't say you don't frighten me a little,” you said honestly. He grunted, tugging more urgently at his socket. “But...you seem really nice, so I guess I'm not really all that scared.”

He stopped tugging, his finger unfurling slowly from his eye. “...s’at so?”

“Well, yeah. My only experience with you is a funny joke, a free pudding, and catching me before I could fall. Those are all pretty good things.”

“hmf. a’ight, then. guess i made a good decision when i gave ya my number.”

“What? When did you--” 

But he vanished.

You sighed, absently running your hand over where his hand had trailed up your thigh earlier, until...oh. Something crinkled under your fingers, sticking out of the waistband of your panties.

So  _ that's  _ when he gave you his number.

* * *

“So tell me  _ everything, _ and don't leave a single detail out!!”

“Hello to you, too, Sammi.” You teased, toweling off your hair as your BFF stuck her tongue out to her webcam. “What's there to tell? It's normal here.”

“Which teacher? Where? How? GIRL. I'm living vicariously through you, don't fuck this up for me.” She said, flipping her grey-blonde hair out of her face.

“You changed your hair again,” you observed. She rolled her eyes.

“Weak attempt to stall, but yes, I got tired of the brown and pink. Tomorrow it'll be fire engine red.”

“Wish I was half as creative as you, going to your fancy Parisian art school.”

“Y/n? The point?”

You sighed. “Professor Sans from my Astronomy class. He was asking me a bunch of questions I couldn't answer, so Oz was texting me the answers--”

“Whoa, wait, who's Oz?”

“My RA. His room is right next to mine.”

“And he already has your number? Thatta girl~♡”

“ _ Anyway _ , he caught me cheating so he dragged me down to the front of the class and had me suck him off while he lectured.”

“Wow. Just... _ wow _ .” Her face screwed up, and then relaxed into a smile. “In front of the whole class? Kinky.”

You laughed nervously, feeling your face flush. “Not as kinky as when he tied me up with his tie.”

“Still in front of the class?!”

“No, after. Like, he was helping me with the syllabus because I didn't pay attention to the lecture, and we just...like...suddenly we were on his desk and he tied my hands and--”

“Wait, wait, I'm going to need a description for my mental image here.” She typed for a moment, and then showed you her phone where she was looking at his picture on the Staff WebPage. “This Sans?”

“Yeah, that's the one.”

“Woah. But he's a skeleton?”

“Half the staff are.”

“How does he...like, what's down there?”

You floundered for a moment, not sure how to answer, pushing your damp curls out of your face. “Uh, I dunno. Magic? It...tingled like magic. Anyway, we had sex on his desk and that was that. End of story. Oh, but...he did give me his personal cell phone number, so I guess that's a compliment?”

Sammi whistled and clapped. “Whoo! That's my girl! Two numbers in one day?”

“Uh, three actually,” you said, remembering Axe’s number. You held up the scrap of paper for her to see. “The head chef from the cafeteria, Axe. Also a skeleton. Oh, so is Oz.”

“You must really like the skelebooty.”

“Shut up!” She laughed, and you laughed, and then...there was a tense beat of silence. You cleared your throat. “Sam? Have they...bugged you at all about me? My parents, I mean.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “We don't have to talk about that, you know…”

“I wanna know.” You said resolutely.

She sighed heavily and gave you a tired smile. “After you left, they filed a missing persons report with the police. Luckily, Dad was there on duty that night so he took it over, and between him and my own testimony, we fixed it for you. The chief knows you're of age, too, so he dismissed it quickly after I told him you weren't missing, that you'd just moved.”

“Tell Mike I said thanks.” You said, sighing in relief.

“Of course. Hey, if your batshit mom shows up, call me right away because I can be on the next plane out so fast, okay?”

“I'll be fine, I'm safe here. And she'll never guess to look where there's so many monsters...and her husband’s useless at finding stuff, so he'll be no help to her. I think I'll be okay.”

“Alright...if you insist. Anyway, it's hella late out here, sista. Don't slack on texting me tomorrow, okay?”

“Of course not, girlie. Love you.”

“Love you, too!” She chirped, and with a blip, she signed off.

You flopped backward onto your bed with a groan. Of  _ course _ your crazy mother thought you were kidnapped and had to go cause trouble. You were extremely lucky for that trust fund your grandma had secretly left you that had allowed you to escape her home and pay for school here. It was the only account in your name that your mother and stepfather hadn't managed to squander, since your grandmother's lawyer had had the sense to bring the information straight to you.

So, of course your mother was tearing apart her sources trying to find you--no, wait, trying to find your  _ money _ . She wanted to do what she always did and spend it on herself and never give you a dime or even a second thought. Detestable.

You hoped she'd never find you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I've waited so long to include Horrortale!Sans into one of my fics. I'm so fucking happy. Everything with Axe is absolutely dedicated to tyrant_tortoise for making me love him so gd much!  
> Also, the plot thickens!


	4. I Feel Better When I'm Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You learn about soul colors and you have your first class with Professor Foxtrot

Your communications class was cancelled today.

You didn't really understand, but it had something to do with your teacher being otherwise preoccupied, and wanting to start fresh on Thursday when he returned. Sure, fine, but…

Well, now you had practically all day until your 3:00 dance class. You had hoped to spend it talking to Sammi, but she was busy with a start-of-the-year art thing her school was doing. So you were searching for your only other friend, Oz.

 

**(xxx):** Hey bonehead my class was cancelled. Wanna grab lunch?

**Oz-Some:** sure thing, just got 2 to finish training w/boss. drop by the gym in 10?

**(xxx):** Sounds good!

 

Didn't he just have training yesterday? That was why Coach Boss dragged him off then. Well, Oz did make it seem like Tuesday was the usual day for training, and Tuesday it was. You didn't know much about magic, but it seemed to be difficult to maintain without proper practice, so maybe Oz was lucky his teacher worried so much about him.

“Y/n! Hey, wait up!”

Huh?

You turned a puzzled gaze on the young man who was now jogging across the quad to address you. You recognized him, as you had been paired with him at the safety seminar on Sunday night for the various exercises Coach Papyrus had prepared.

“Oh...uh...Damon, right?”

He beamed at you as he came to a stop, pushing his messy blonde hair out of his face. “Yup, that's me. I noticed you were looking at that sign on the door from Professor Blue. I guess we have that class together.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah. I guess we do.”

He promptly fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. “Study-buddies?”

You had to admire his forwardness, though you supposed this school just inspired that in people. You typed your number in and returned it with a smile. “Thanks, Damon. I'm no good at subjects like communications. Listen, I gotta lunch date to make, but text me later?”

“Oh, I definitely will.” He said, flashing a huge smile back that made you blush as he retreated. 

Your phone pinged.

 

**Oz-Some:** u coming? or r u cumming? ;)

**(xxx):** b right there, hold ur horses

**Oz-Some:** these ponies just can't wait

**(xxx):** :P

* * *

“so, tell me, ‘ow is it that you're already the talk of the teacher’s lounge?” Oz’s thick Aussie accent lilted playfully, mischievous grin across his teeth as he leaned on his hand, elbow on the table. You sputtered and nearly choked on your food, coughing desperately as you turned bright red.

“Wh-what?!”

“what, did ya think they don't gossip about their sexcapades, bird?” He chuckled. “i heard you even got some numbers. boss tol’ me you were the only thing on his brother’s mind yesterday.”

Who was Boss' brother? Sans? No, that was Coach Papyrus’ brother. “Professor Red?”

“dingdingding, we ‘ave a winner! yeah, red.”

“But we...we barely did anything.”

Oz laughs to himself as he drags from his vape, flawlessly dodging a frying pan as it flies at his head from the kitchen. You can hear Chef Axe shouting at him to ‘take that shit outside’. The smell of blue raspberry tickles your nose as he releases the cloud casually, as if he didn't almost just get domed by kitchenware.

“what d’you know about souls and soul colors, love?” He asked, tapping the mouth of his vape pen against his crown thoughtfully.

“Uh, not much? I mean, I know that your soul color is kinda like the ultimate personality test, sorta?”

“close. it’s your driving principle, the thing you build everythin’ else on. someone with a yellow soul has a strong sense of justice, and might wan’everything t’be fair. but, they might only be interested in their own twisted sense of justice, so it doesn't mean they’re a good person, necessarily.” He explained. “n’so, there's secondary principles we have to configure the rest. if that justice soul is good, it might have secondary principles like temperance n’kindness.”

Wow. This went deeper than you thought. “Okay...so what’s yours?”

He chuckled, bringing his vape pen to his teeth again.

“you'll have to find out on your own, little miss.” You get the feeling you just asked a very personal question. “anyway...the reason they’re all a-twitter about you, bird...your soul, reportedly, seems to be pink.”

“Pink? What is that, like...kindness?”

“aah, not kindness, that’s green. pink is for passion.” His gaze dipped down to your chest, where your hands had clasped over your breast unconsciously. He could see it faintly, not as well as if he could pull it out, but it was unmistakable. Pink for passion, nearly as rare as determination. Secondary aspects: magenta for tenacity, seafoam for tolerance. Passion that never wanes and extends to everyone, passion that doesn't care about race or looks, passion that will never stop until your heart stops beating. A powerful combination, especially to monsters.

“Passion?” You were already beet red at that, how cute. “Yeah, no, the only thing I think I've ever been passionate about is sleep. And the characters from Supernatural.”

He grinned at you, setting his pen down. “i think you’re more passionate than y’think.”

You rolled your eyes, unbelieving. “Okay, so say I’m passion. What does that mean?”

“means you fuck alright,” he says bluntly. “we feel a sense of euphoria when we mate with you...maybe like to test the effect on me?”

You laughed at his suggestive browbone-waggle. “Har-de-har, very funny.”

“i don't joke about matters of the heart, bird.” He grinned. “but anyway, i ‘ave to get to my class, and so do you. introduction to movement in modern dance, right? hmph. i think you’ll like him.”

“Oh, what do you know, you've known me two days,” you teased, sticking your tongue out as he moved to get up. 

He gave you a mischievous smile and then he was gone.

* * *

Dancing.

If there was one thing you loved, it was dancing. Your grandmother had paid for your dance classes personally, and as such you had actually been able to learn and grow as a dancer. Ballet, waltz, tango, salsa...You had learned it all, but freestyle was your favorite in every capacity. You probably would have majored in dance if you hadn't had that accident two years ago that prevented you from ever going pro, and became the reason you weren't able to start college until you were twenty. After a long and arduous recovery, you were healed, but you’d never dance the same again, which was a shame because it was your favorite way of expressing yourself. Professor Foxtrot seemed to share this sentiment, introducing himself by performing a short hip-hop routine for the class.

He looked a lot like Sans. You were quickly learning that skeleton monsters seemed to fall under two categories: tall with long face and short with rounder face. Professor Foxtrot wore a blue sweater and dance sweats, topped off (bottomed off?) with blue hi-top Chuck Taylors laced all the way up. He certainly looked casual enough, but something about his manner suggested he doesn't fuck around.

Sure enough, two students started getting frisky while he was talking about the importance of stretching, and they found themselves on the other side of the door with instructions not to come back.

“this room, during class hours, is for learning the art of dancing and movement. if you can't keep it in your pants for longer than the duration of my class, then you can go somewhere else.” He stated matter-of-factly, in the middle of talking about the dance showcase at the end of the semester. “i’m not making a porno here.”

And so, after a few nervous students left, you were left to stretch in peace with the rest of the now frighteningly small class.

You sighed, releasing your held tension as you swing your leg up onto the ballet bar to begin your stretch. You tried to point your toes as best you could, but it was frustrating how that tendon never healed right and thus you couldn't do a full pointe anymore. You finished your bar stretches half-heartedly and moved to the floor.

“you seem pretty practiced,” the professor said from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts. He chuckled as you turned to him with wide eyes. “sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on ya. just noticed you stretch like a pro.”

“Oh, uh...yeah. I've been dancing a long time.” You don't know why you were so embarrassed by that, as you lowered your gaze back to your worn dance shoes. “I'm pretty excited for this class, actually.”

“that's good. dedication is half the battle.” his eyelights travel to your left leg thoughtfully. 

Before you know it he’s got you on your back, bending your leg up against your chest. You make a surprised squeak, and you can feel the eyes of the other students on you. Hadn't he just said not in class??

“focus on yourselves,” Foxtrot snaps, and the students hastily look away to continue stretching. He turns his gaze back to you as he gently yet firmly stretches your leg upward over your head, hands running over your calf. You're gasping, half in surprise, half from the pain screaming from your damaged leg, but suddenly his hands are glowing slightly and the usual pain is replaced with relief. “thought so. this leg was injured, wasn't it?”

You could only nod.

He holds your stretch, reaching his other hand up to rotate your ankle. “hmph. healed all wrong. didn't you go to the doctor when you got hurt?”

“I...I did but...my family didn't want to pay for the surgery…” you managed to breathe out, with a slight bit more honesty than you’d intended. If he had eyebrows, he’d be raising them. He releases you, and the relief in your leg is replaced by the usual dull throb you get after you stretch it.

“i healed it,” he answered your unvoiced question. “a little bit.”

“Healed it?” you asked, eyes growing wide. Is that what the glowy hands was? And the relief? “You can...do that?”

“that's all i can do for today, but i think by the end of the semester i might be able to fix it.” He said, watching your face carefully. “of course, that is, if you plan on being in the intermediate class and participating in the showcase.”

He didn't wait for your answer, but rather stood and returned to lead the class through some introductory steps. You tested out your leg through the rest of class, still in a daze, and marveled at the comfort of your usually stiff joints.

You think your pointe might already be improving.

It was introductory, of course, so even without the healing you would have been able to follow pretty flawlessly. You felt giddy, excited...confused. If he could really fix it, you could change your major to dance like you really wanted, instead of teaching English...but what about the future? What can you do with a dance degree besides teach or be a background dancer or a stripper? It wasn't as if money was  _ really _ an issue...if you were careful with the money your grandmother had left you, you could live pretty comfortable off of interest and still pay tuition. Maybe you  _ could _ feasibly open up your own dance studio.

You mirrored Foxtrot’s movements gracefully. Dancing had been the only area in your life where you had ever had any poise, and you would have gone to the same school in Paris as Sammi was, if it hadn't been for the accident. It had happened on your senior trip, when you were hiking up a cliffside with the rest of your classmates. You could still hear Sammi screaming as you slipped from the ledge, falling down, down, down off the rocks you’d been clinging to. She still blames herself for not being able to hold on until the teacher came.

Another flare of something fills your chest as you realize how much of a relief this could be for her...to know that you could still dance. You told yourself you’d text her as soon as class was out, and gave in to the freedom in your limbs as you repeated the routine back again. And again. And again. Your breathing was getting heavy, but your limbs still remembered how to move even if your lungs didn't.

You were about to repeat the routine a fourth time when a soft smattering of applause startled you and you stumbled, looking up at the rest of your class sheepishly.

Apparently you had completely missed the bell, and the music stopping. All your classmates already had their bags slung over their shoulders and the professor was grinning at you in amusement, arms folded over his chest.

You leaned down to gather your things as they filed out, chattering quietly, leaving you alone with the professor. Good, you still had to thank him.

“how’s the leg so far?” He asked, hands in his sweatshirt pockets as he approached you.

“Better.” You sighed, straightening yourself. “I uhm...thank you. For healing it. You didn't have to do that.”

“i know a passionate dancer when i see one, twinkletoes.” he snorted, rolling his eyelights. “i know what it’s like, to feel the music resonating in your soul but not be able to follow it.”

You found yourself blushing. There was that word again: passionate. It hung in the air around you and it didn't logically fit but you knew he was right. “Oh, well...really, thank you.”

“not finished yet.” he said, extending a paper to you. You took it...aaaaaaand now you have  _ three _ staff cell phone numbers. “call me when you’re free outside of the days we have class. it'll need healing often if you want it to heal right.”

You can't possibly take up that much time from him! There has to be some way to repay him. “That’s...really kind of you. Isn't there some way I can repay you for the healing sessions?”

“don't need your money, gorgeous.” He winked. You're blushing again, you get it now. How blind could you be, of course he wants sex. You stutter, and your hand flutters up to unbutton your blouse. 

His own hand flies up and stops you immediately, a furious blue blush forming on his skull. Well, you went from shy to absolutely mortified as you stepped back to furiously rebutton your shirt

“Oh...uh...I thought you…”

“no, no, it’s ok. i can see how you got confused.”

“I...I mean it's just this…uh, th-this school…”

“no, really.” He pauses and sighs. “it’s alright, i wasn't clear. i, uh, i don't have sex with my students anymore. just a, uh...personal thing.”

Oh.

You don't know what to say, so you simply stutter an apology and grab your bag, vacating the classroom as quickly as humanly possible and leaving him behind.

It wasn't until you were all the way back at your dorm room that you realized he said “anymore”.

You wonder what happened to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ploooooooooooooooooot  
> Sorry for no smut in this chapter. There will be smut next time.  
> I'm going to be updating less frequently, as explained in the notes under chapter 55 of my other story "Six Skeletons in Your Closet"


	5. Cold-hearted*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops...you wasted food in Axe's cafeteria.  
> What's in store next?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this was better the first time I wrote it but I lost so here's this.  
> Sexual content: p-in-v, ecto-dick, intercourse, biting, punishment, cold play (no, not the band)

The next day went by without a hitch, though it was all you could do to keep from blushing as you avoided Sans’ pointed stare during Astronomy. You took some good notes, actually watched the safety videos in shop class this time, and managed to catch some froyo before the cafeteria closed. After video chatting with Sammi for a while, you even managed to get some good sleep!

That is, until your phone pinged at midnight.

 

 **EatMe:** hey lambchop, you was in such a hurry the other day that you left your food on the table

 **EatMe:** case you didn't know, that don't fly in my kitchen. i’ll see you at 10am sharp, don't you dare miss it.

 

And so, here you were, at 9:30am like the go-getter you were, regretting your life choices. It wasn't really that it was early, which it definitely was because you hate mornings. You went out of your way to schedule all your classes after 11 so you wouldn't have to wake up this early. It also wasn't necessarily the fact that you were half-dressed in just thin sweatpants and a tank top, although it aggravated the situation more than you liked. It wasn't even how hungry you were seeing as you had skipped breakfast to make it on time.

No, no, it wasn't any of these things that had caused you to rethink your life choices.

It was the fact that only now, after seventeen long minutes standing in the walk-in freezer, were you starting to doubt the amount of trust you had placed in Axe.

Yes, the freezer. Upon showing up, he had unceremoniously tossed you in here, frisked you for your phone which he then confiscated, and locked the door behind him on his way out without so much as a hello, let alone an explanation.

You shivered and wrapped your icy fingers around yourself, rubbing and trying to create enough friction to keep warm as you tried to puzzle out what was happening. Is this the “or else” that the signs had warned you about? Does Axe throw wasteful humans in here to freeze to death and then use them in his “Chef Axe Special”?

No phone to call for help. No way to muscle out of the thick freezer walls. No handle on the inside to try. You don't think anyone would hear you if you screamed, either, so here you were, stuck until--

“learned your lesson?”

You gasped at the surge of warm air that flowed in when Axe opened the door to address you, nodding furiously as you tried to dart out the entryway. You yelped in surprise when he blocked you bodily, pressing one hand against your clavicle to back you up as he closed the door behind him.

“use your words, now, sweet thing.”

“D-don't waste f-f-food?!” You stuttered weakly, unintentionally leaning into his firm hand to press against the warmth it radiated.

Axe looked you up and down for a long moment, drinking in your desperate visage.

“good. on to the reinforcement lesson, then.”

“Wha--!”

You gasped as the cold metal of the freezer wall pressed against your skin, pricking your bare shoulders with cold as he suddenly pinned you to it, your thighs in his hands to hoist you up to his level and knees slung lazily over his elbows as he pressed forward with a growl.

You started to protest the cold but it turned into a choked moan as he pressed his surprisingly warm bones against you, warming you from your toes to the tips of your hair slowly, teasingly. You shuddered as he dragged his tongue across your clavicle with a satisfied purr.

“ya taste just as good as i thought you would, lambchop...sweet, salty...and a little scared.” He chuckled, leaning back to eye you with his huge red eyelight. The other day the way it rolled over your form had been terrifying and alien, but now it made you feel unabashedly attractive and needy.

He wasted no time, and the freezing air of your location bit into your bare legs as your sweatpants suddenly went missing, not unlike how Sans had made your panties disappear that first day. The cold was quickly remedied by his warm ceramic hands, rubbing your thighs as you found yourself getting more bothered, heat from his body and your core making you forget about your location entirely.

If you had seen it before he slipped it in, you probably would have screamed the safeword, so he didn't waste time peacocking (pun intended). Instead, you found yourself moaning wantonly as the hard ridges rubbed you in ways you had never been rubbed before. He grunted as he struggled to sheathe himself, feeling you tense up against his girth.

“relax, sweet pea,” he crooned gently, massaging your thighs slowly to coax you into doing just that. Surprisingly, you obeyed, and he was able to slide in slowly, slowly...he groaned and leaned his head forward to rest on your shoulder. _Fuck._ It wasn't just that you felt good, although you definitely did, but...your _soul_.

He’d met one soul of passion before. A pet of his brother’s, a little human Paps had never been able to bring himself to kill. A human that had looked past his terrifying features and obvious insanity. A human that became his saving light in the darkness of the underground, never caring about the nasty love bites he left behind or even the actual hungry ones he sometimes did as well. He remembered this feeling, the feeling that, just for a moment, one sweet moment, he was himself again, feeling your passion wave over him as you whimpered under his touch, asking for more.

He obliged, rocking against you slowly at first, then much more swiftly as you grew used to his size. Your hands had found their way up his shirt, and he growled ferally as your nails scrabbled to find purchase on his bones.

You gasped with each thrust as he dragged his ridges against your inner walls, reveling in the muffled moans as you buried your head in the fabric of his uniform polo. He usually hated this stupid shirt, but he liked the way it looked right now, balled up in your fists. He struggled to control himself when you ran your hand over his neck, down his spine, and up again to cradle the back of his head intimately.

You felt him growl, vibrating against your sensitive breasts through your tight tank top, and suddenly his hand was on yours, gently but firmly repositioning it farther away from the hole in his skull. Too bad, you were kind of curious about that spot, but you didn't think on it any longer and instead attempted to roll your hips in time with his, though the brutal pace he had set was difficult to keep up with.

You were cumming in no time, and at first you tried to bend down and press your face against his shoulder. There was a chuckle as a hand somehow found it’s way to your hair, tugging your head back as he slowed his pace, working you through your orgasm.

“don’t hide, now, sweet pea. i wanna see the face you make when i make your toes curl.”

He felt himself grinning in an almost predatory fashion as he watched you shudder through your climax, face flushed and your mouth slack in a tiny ‘o', with moans  that would tease his dreams for days to come. You looked utterly wrecked, he thought proudly, and he decided that he wanted to see more of that. Without warning, he rolled his hips once more, and you yelped in surprise before bending favorably against him in a silent invitation.

After that it was a blur of moans and bones rattling, your mind clouded by the lust in the air whereas his grew clearer and sharper every time you whimpered. He switched your position a few times, but he always supported your weight completely and with ease, making you feel as though you were floating the entire time.

When you started to come to your senses (when he started to take pity on you and go a little slower) the harsh cold of the freezer wall now attacked your sensitive breast as he pulled your tank top down, palming the other one as his free hand moved to tangle in your hair and yank you flush against his exposed ribs.

“look at you, at a loss for _words_.” He growled, thrusting up into you. “tell me again, sweet pea, what’d we learn?”

“N...no...no wasting foo--ahh~!” You shrieked, your hands trying to support yourself for leverage but instead knocking a tray off a shelf.

Axe chuckled behind you, catching the tray with his magic and placing it safely back on the shelf. “some lesson if you’re ready to do it again, eh?”

With that you were on the floor, with him at your back as he held you down by the back of your neck, pace growing erratic as he muttered about making it stick, or maybe making it sticky, but they both seemed to mean the same thing right now so you gave up, moaning into the cold concrete floor as you wiggled your hips, inviting him deeper. He obliged, and the world went white for a moment as your overstimulated body was dragged into another climax that left you drooling.

You gasped as he stilled behind you, surprised by the pain of sharp teeth digging into your shoulder and then by the heat that spilled inside you as he muffled his shouts in your flesh.

Now it seemed like everything slowed down, and his teeth released you but you felt no pain as he purred gently against your back, nuzzling you semi-consciously as he pumped the last of his own climax inside of you.

He slid off you slowly, pressing his phalanges into your back and hips appreciatively as he went.

His head felt heavy as he sluggishly removed himself from you, and you looked like an angel beneath him as you panted. Something in the back of his mind was telling him to comfort you, some recess of his brain where he was a decent being still. He decided to listen to it while he could still hear it, and helped you shakily into a sitting position.

You blinked back to reality as he slid your sweatpants back in place, and the first thing you saw was--

He chuckled at your startled gasp.

“what, didja really think all monster dicks looked like normal human ones?” He asked, humor in his voice as the ridged member finally dissipated. You sputtered in response as he pulled his shorts up and popped to his feet, extending his hand to you.

You stood on somewhat wobbly feet, smiling shyly up at your partner as he helped you straighten your clothes.

“I guess I...have a lot to learn about monsters…” You mumbled as he smoothed your tank top back down.

You felt guilty for doubting him earlier. After all, that was one hell of a ride, and he didn't actually hurt yo….oh.

Your hand fluttered up to the fresh bite mark on your shoulder, and you blanched as it came away bloody.

Surprisingly, Axe chuckled again. “just relax and let my magic do the work, eh?”

You yipped in surprise as the wound started closing beneath your fingertips, healing over until it was just a tender bruise. Axe’s laughter still rang as he produced a handkerchief to wipe away the excess blood.

“B-but...how? What magic?”

“think hard, lambchop.”

Oh.

_Oh._

You felt your blush rise despite the cold of the freezer as the wet reminder of his magic soaked between your legs.

“alright, i’ve teased and pleased ya enough. lemme get you home so you can change.”

“Oh, gosh, I have to get to my communications class!”

“sweetheart, you missed your class a long time ago. it's…” Axe looked at his nonexistent watch. “well, it’s been a while.”

You frantically pulled out your phone and stared at it in disbelief.

“12:30??? We were in here for 3 _hours_?”

* * *

 **(xxx):** [1 image attached]

 **Sam-I-Am:** ok so not like it isn't appreciated or bookmarked or anything but what's with the random dragon dildo pic?

 **(xxx)** It's the closest thing I could find to show you what his dick looked like

 **Sam-I-Am:** !!! GURL YOU BETTER SPILL

 **Sam-I-Am:** if you don't start sharing details in ten seconds I swear I will get on the next plane back and beat it out of you!

 **(xxx):** lol relax. I definitely plan to spill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axe could be dangerous, but luckily for reader he gets more lucid the more exposed to her passion he gets. Sounds like a win for everyone.


	6. Skeletal Anatomy 101?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have another healing session with Foxtrot.  
> You make a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say that I have never been so pumped about a storyline as this one and SSiYC's.  
> It's nice to know what youre going to do ahead of time.  
> No sexytimes in this one.

“you look like you were hit by a truck.” Foxtrot commented when you hobbled into the dance room. “twice.”

You laughed nervously, slinging your dance bag to the ground. You were about 10 minutes late, because Axe had taken quite a while to say goodbye after dropping you off (your lips still buzzed pleasantly from his many kisses, and your poor ass was horribly abused by the accompanying gropage) and as such it had been a long time before you were finally able to get inside, shower, and put on your dance clothes.

Still, 10 minutes late is technically 20 minutes early, since the professor had asked you to be a half hour early for some healing and extra stretching on your injured leg, in the hopes that it wouldn't hold back class time.

“Uh, yeah, uhm...I'm a little sore.” You admitted meekly, hand sliding over the bruise on your shoulder that had once been an open bite wound. Foxtrot’s eyelights keenly picked up on the subtle movement, and suddenly his genuine concern shifted into genuine amusement.

“...i see,” he chuckled, unzipping his sweater to remove it from his shoulders. “well maybe i can do something about that while we’re at it.”

You were immediately stuttering as his jacket fell away, both at the suggestiveness of the words as well as at the now exposed bones of his arms.

“jeez, twinkles, this is gonna be difficult if you keep  _ ribbin’ _ me about the way i say stuff. getcha head outta the gutter, eh?” Amusement still laced his voice, but his grip was firm as he led you down to the ground.

“Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled, trying to scrub the blush from your cheeks.

“don’t apologize, just stretch.”

You obeyed, pulling your feet in to meet flat against each other for a butterfly stretch that your body practically scoffed at. You groaned as the sore muscles shouted reminders of your romp in the freezer, stretching painfully but not unpleasantly.

Foxtrot tutted quietly next to you, and suddenly he was at your back. “welp, can’t say i’m surprised, but your back is all fucked up from walkin’ wrong, too. imma touch ya, okay?”

You nodded, and suddenly there was pressure at the base of your spine, and his other hand found your shoulder, encouraging you to lean back up from your butterfly slowly as he dragged buzzing magic up your vertebrae, tightening, tightening, tightening…

You gasped at the audible crack when you finally sat up straight, feeling relief wash over you as your back snapped back into place. Man, you hadn't even realized it was  _ out _ of place!

“Ooohh my Goooood…..” You outright moaned, going limp as he released you and slumping over your feet once more. “Holy shit. You need to tell me how you did that.”

He only chuckled, settling in front of you instead as he waggled his phalanges. “magic.”

“That’s a cheat answer.”

“but an honest one. alright, let’s see this leg.”

You stuck it out immediately, making him stifle a laugh at your eagerness. Hey, you weren't ashamed, you just wanna dance! He supported your ankle to raise the leg about a foot up from where you were both sitting.

“pointe.” He commanded.

You did your best to do so.

He ran a finger down your calf, tracing the scars from your injuries as if trying to get a picture of what the mess inside looked like. After a long moment of him lingering on the scar, he nodded to himself, rested your ankle on his shoulder and held up his hands.

“ready?”

You nodded and he placed one on your ankle and one on your calf, a soft blue glow enveloping them as the buzzing warmth pressed into your leg.

He was so focused immediately that his sockets closed in concentration, giving you a chance to look over the bones you had politely avoided staring at before.

His bones were thicker than the average human skeleton, almost the size of normal biceps and other muscles whose names you don't recall. His radius and ulna were almost fused to shape a natural forearm, and the palms of his hands had malleable plates instead of just the basic carpal and metacarpals. His warm ceramic hands rubbed gently against your injury, seeming to coax the scar tissue to move, but your eye was drawn once again to his upper arms as they moved, shoulders and collarbone rippling beneath his loose grey tank top. Bones were fused in strange places there, too, with his vertebrae looking less like a spine and more like a cylinder with ridges, much more flexible and soft in appearance.

“enjoying the show there, twinkles?”

You squeaked as he dropped your leg gently onto his knee, giving you an amused stare as you realized you’d been caught.

“Oh, wow, uhm...sorry. I didn't mean to stare, it’s just that the other skeletons have never shown me this much bone before, so I'm curious.”

One socket piqued upward as if raising an eyebrow. “ ‘this much bone’, huh? well, and here i thought you were seeing plenty of  _ bone _ .”

He chuckled at your mortification, and then you noticed something.

“Uhm, professor? Are you done healing it for the day?”

“yeah, why?”

“Because, uh, you're still rubbing me.”

“...am i?” His gaze glanced down at his hands that were still massaging your calf, before releasing it with a small chuckle. “sorry, guess i don't see a lot of skin myself.”

He was blushing brightly, and it was pretty adorable. He rose with a groan and extended a hand for him to pull you up, and you accepted, popping to your feet.

Your hand lingered in his for a moment aaaaaand…

Fuck it. You’re curious.

“...what are you doin’?”

“Just looking...if I may?” You asked, turning his palm upward to inspect the malleable plating.

“heh. knock yerself out, kid.”

He watched your face carefully as you muttered the names of some of the bones to yourself, delicately running your fingers across the surface. He was always surprised when a student wanted to look closer at his bones, but he had never seen quite that much  _ delight _ in their eyes while doing it. It was clear that you were affixed by the workings of the monster body, though if it was skeletons or just particularly him he unfortunately couldn't tell.

He wanted to be embarrassed by the way your fingers brushed over his joints, but he himself was definitely guilty of lingering longer on your leg than was necessary. Yes, he was checking out your injury (nasty fucker, too, he had never seen a leg heal so wrong and the person be able to walk so straight.) but he was also enjoying the smoothness of your skin. He hadn't changed his mind about sleeping with students, hell no, but...it felt nice, to be touched like th--

He let out a very unmanly squeak as your fingers slipped to brush the tiny space between his radius and ulna, an incredibly sensitive spot. You jerked your hand away as his face flooded with magic.

“Did I hurt y--”

He held up a hand to stop you. “no, no. it, uh, it’s ticklish. uh, you don’t have to stop. if you...don’t want…”

You hesitated for only a moment, but he was delighted when you picked up right where you left off, carefully avoiding that space as your eyes travelled up to inspect his shoulder.

It was fascinating, really. Where you expected to find cartilage, there was softly buzzing magic holding him together instead. You completely missed him suck in a breath as you trailed your hand over his clavicle, pressing against his cervical vertebrae gently, fascinated by the slight give his bones had.

Somebody cleared their throat, making the both of you jump as you realized you were inches from his face, caressing the indent on his skull where ears would be. Said skull was a deep navy as he stepped back, coughing awkwardly, and turning to the newcomer.

“we were just talkin’.”

“Uh, yeah, I was just--”

“Oh, I'm just gonna stretch, you guys keep…” The girl waved her hand generally. “...kanoodling.”

She had a knowing smile on her face as she dropped her bag, chestnut hair falling gently over her shoulders to reveal a brilliant undercolor of blues and purples. Sneaky unicorn hair. Awesome.

“We weren't--”

“she just--”

The girl made a noncommittal noise and shrugged, humming to herself as she turned to stuff her hair into a bun. Wow, that’s a lot of hair.

Foxtrot was already moving away when you looked back at him, slipping his sweatshirt back over his shoulders. You shrugged and went to start your real stretching. 

You were embarrassed, but not nearly as much as if somebody had walked in on you with your other teachers. At least with Foxtrot it was just plain platonic curiosity. Platonic. Yup. Totally platonic.

“You’re the one who’s right next door to Oz now, yeah?”

You paused as you folded over your good leg in a splits, looking up at your other early bird classmate as the other students trickled in behind her.

“Oh, uh, yeah that's me. The loser who needed special accommodations,” you joked, running a hand through your curls as she plopped down to stretch next to you. “You know Oz?”

“Pffft. Who  _ doesn’t _ know Oz? But yeah, we’re friends.” She moved in an awkward way, clearly not used to dance stretching. Probably not a dance major, more likely just taking it for general ed. Still, her movements were graceful and confident. “I'm Ace, or at least that's what everyone calls me.”

“I'm y/n.”

“Yeah, but Oz calls you Passion~”

Aaaaaaand you're blushing all over again.

* * *

Turns out she was called Ace because she was asexual, which was rarer than a unicorn at a school like this.

She was a junior, and a music major, and she knew practically everyone on campus. You walked back to the dorms with her and it took a lot longer than usual because she was stopped everywhere she went.

She was chatty, and cool as a cucumber. She was similar to Oz in a way, but with more of a determined attitude.

There's just one thing that you have to get out of the way before it drives you insane.

"So... Why?" You asked finally.

"Why what, Passionfruit?"

"Why come here?" You gesture to the campus around you. “You know, the way the school is and all…”

She snorted, and the sound whistled slightly through a charming gap in her front teeth. Could this girl be any cuter? It didn't help that she only reached your shoulder.

"A’ight, so. My mom and neighbors were all talking one day about me and college right? Well, I heard one of them say that there's no way someone like me would go to a school like this."

"And?"

"And so I sent a thing to be enrolled."

"...That's it?"

"Pretty much."

"...Huh."

"Yep."

Well, you suppose you can understand making decisions out of spite. You were pursuing dance out of spite before the accident--your mother claimed it was a waste of money and that you had no talent anyway.

She promises to see you around and you switch numbers. It feels...nice.

Look at you, making friends. Trusting people. Being happy. Being hopeful.

You hope it lasts.


	7. Fat Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (xxx): Stop telling strangers about me you egg!
> 
> Oz-some: but are you still strangers?
> 
> (xxx): …..no
> 
> Oz-some: then i am not at fault
> 
> (xxx): mmmmmmmm I'm watching youuuuu
> 
> Oz-some: get a good seat there, you're just in time for my shower ;)
> 
> (xxx): you're so gross. I oughta come over there and hit you with my pillow for that.
> 
> Oz-some: again, it's shower time, enter at your own risk~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More plot. No sexytimes. But that's alright (:

**AllAcesBaby:** I'm telling you, Oz, the girl is a genuine phenomenon

 **(xxx):** s’at so?

 **AllAcesBaby:** Yeah! Come on, a girl who’s willing to put up with you for more than a day...who’s cute?! You better wife her

 **(xxx):** heh, we’re only friends.

 **AllAcesBaby:** w/e you say.

 

Oz slumped lazily across his couch, shirt discarded a few feet away to accommodate the last heatwave of the season. He had been texting with Ace, hearing all about how up close and personal you were getting with Foxtrot when she walked in yesterday. It was juicy gossip, since Foxtrot generally doesn't give any student special attention, and he might have to tease you about it later.

He yawned, blinking back the urge to sleep his Friday away once more, knowing that if he closes his eyes, someone will come knocking on his door in no time for him to do some RA thing.

Instead he lazily flipped through channels, occasionally checking his phone and wondering if he should bother to get up and make himself something to eat. Eh, he was hungry, but not so hungry as to cook something for himself. He’d probably just suck down a can of whipped cream and call it dinner.

...Was someone knocking on his door?

He turned down the tv to hear better.

 _Knock knock knock_.

Sigh. Probably some butthurt freshman who doesn't like his roommates. He groaned and removed himself from the couch, half-assedly pulling his shirt on, and trudged over to the door. He had had at least 50 of these cases this week, and quite frankly he was getting really tired of th--

Oh.

“Uh, hey,” you said, smiling up at him. You had a tray in your hands covered in foil, and were wearing almost as little as he was (just some pajama shorts and a tank top, which gave him the _perfect_ view right down your boobs. Nice.). “So, what had happened was, I was making something for Fat Friday, and then I realized--”

“fat what now?” He drawled, amused.

“Fat Friday. Uhm, every Friday me and Sammi, my best friend, would make some kind of dessert and eat it together. I figured I should still do it even though she’s all the way in France--” He wondered if you realized how little he actually knows about you. “--so I started to bake but then I realized I can't just eat all of this all alone, plus I forgot a very important ingredient, and I guess I probably should have opened with: do you want some strawberry shortcake?”

If he had eyebrows, they’d be raised.

“...you mean, as in, my fav’rite dessert ever?” He chuckled, standing aside. “well, then, c’mon in, there, birdie.”

You seemed to light up at the mention that it was his favorite, and swept past him with a cute little bounce without further invitation.

He followed you curiously to the kitchen, where you removed the foil and set the tray on the counter. You flitted off to retrieve plates from the cupboards (somehow you managed to produce two, though he can’t remember the last time he did dishes) and were already plating his up alongside yours without prompting.

He leaned against the counter, watching you with interest. He hadn't asked you to make his for him, and yet here you had gone full-on Martha Stewart in your frilly apron you brought from your place.

You paused, staring at the now strawberry-slathered shortcakes as if only just now realizing something was missing.

“Do you have whipped cream?” You asked.

He looked at you blankly for a long moment, before bursting into laughter as he pushed off the counter, pulling the fridge door open.

You gasped and jumped to catch the several bottles of whipped cream that fell from the fridge, only to look up and see that…

The fridge was at least 50% whipped cream cans. It was stuffed in the door, around various takeout boxes, on top of Tupperware, crammed into every free space you could see.

Oz reached over and plucked the ones you caught from your hands, setting one on the counter and sliding the other one into a tiny nook by what you assumed must have once been chicken.

“i like th’whip,” he stated, amusement lacing his voice as he closed the fridge once more. “eat it like it’s the only nutrients my body’ll take s’metimes.”

“...I understand why strawberry shortcake is your favorite dessert now.” You said, almost comically serious. He chuckled and moved to the counter.

“siddown, now, birdie. i’ll finish these up right quick.”

“Oh, no, I've got it--”

“ah!” Oz caught your wrist as you tried to reach past him for the can. “ _sit_ . y’already spent all that time bakin’em, i can’t very well letcha do _all_ the work.”

He successfully shooed you from the kitchen, and turned to drown the cakes in whipped cream.

What a card you were, bringing him desserts randomly. When he had told Ace about you, he had mentioned you were hot, but he hadn't known you were also so _domestic_. This was a situation Ace would definitely tease you both about if she found out. And then scold you for going over the top.

Hmm...come to think of it, other than when he had sat at lunch with you the other day, he doesn't think he’s ever seen you take a break. When he was coming home last night, even, he had seen you running around the dorms, pausing to stretch. He had checked later and you were still making laps.

At least he had convinced you to go si…

“are you _cleaning_ my livin’ room?”

You looked up at him guiltily, a stack of old magazines and books in your hands.

“I thought we’d need a place to eat?” You tried to reason as you slowly placed the stack back down next to the newly-cleared coffee table. He raised a brow bone and placed the plate in his hand on the table, the other plate floating down into place next to it. Your eyebrows disappeared into your curls as you watched.

“Woah. You’re like Jean Grey.”

“jean who?”

“Jean Grey. Mutant from X-men that moves things with her mind?”

“i don't really use m’mind. n’don’t think you're off the hook for cleanin’ when i toldja t’sit.”

You rolled your eyes, a little smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Whatever.”

* * *

How did you get here?

What had started as a friendly offering of strawberry shortcake had turned into something much more, something that awakened your base instincts and had you groaning his name…

...in exasperation.

“Ugh, _Oz_ , you have _got_ to be kidding me,” you groaned, tossing a strawberry at him from the couch as he walked back from the kitchen, a soda in the crook of his elbow and remote in hand as he selected some cheesy horror movie from the 90s.

The something more was a horror movie marathon. The base instinct? Trying to outdo each other’s selections.

So far you were winning, you think, having shown him Devil’s Carnival (bonus points for it being a musical) and Little Hellions (psychological torture, demon children, little known title). The sun had long since gone down, and his selections had seemed more generic, although you can't exactly blame him for not knowing a whole lot of titles. Living underground makes it hard to keep up with pop culture.

“you’ve no idea what you’re missin’ if’ya haven’t seen this,” he drawled, his Australian accent really showing through the later it got. He must relax more when tired. For some reason, you were especially endeared by the way the word ‘idea' had rolled into a soft ‘r' at the end. Cute. “shit. needta adjust th’speakers…”

“Heads up,” you said, helpfully claiming the volume remote and tossing it to him as he turned around.

It clattered to the ground.

“pfft...seriously?” He chuckled as you turned a vibrant scarlet.

You just tossed a remote to him when he was already holding one in his hand.

He only has one arm. One hand. That was occupied. And you had thus thrown the thing at the side of him that _had no way to catch it._

“Oh my Gooooood,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands as his chuckle turned into full-blown laughter, doubling over himself in his mirth.

“ _snrk_ …’preciate you lendin’ me a _hand_ there.”

“Nooooooo…”

“really, no _arm_ done.”

Giggle. “Stop!”

“i’m gonna go out on a _limb_ here an’say you totally forgot?”

“Big time.”

He was still laughing as he dropped onto the couch next to you, floating the spurned remote over to him so he could fiddle with the controls while you checked your phone.

 

 **BonyDanza:** hey just checking in about your leg. lay off it for the weekend and tell me how it feels

 

“ok, normally i'm good at these, but who the actual fuck is ‘bonydanza’?” Oz snorted, having snuck a peek at your screen.

“Hey!” You sniffed indignantly, holding your phone to your chest and leaning away from him playfully. He produced his vape pen, waggling his browbone at you in amusement as the vapor curled out from his eyescokets. “Okay, fine, so it's a bit of a stretch, but...you know the Elton John song, _Tiny Dancer_?”

“ye.”

“Well everyone misheard the lyrics for like, 20 years, and they always thought it said ‘Tony Danza’.”

“bony danza. bony dancer. foxtrot?”

“Ding ding, winner winner! Now stop looking at my texts, nosybones!” You teased, turning back to your phone to respond.

“why, there somethin’ juicy in those messages, birdie?” He teased, poking your cheek. “you know, s’rude to pop ‘round to a dude’s house an’spend th’whole time sexting another bloke.”

There's that red color he loved so much on you. You made a strangled noise and nearly dropped the phone, and looked at him with a hilarious amount of outrage.

“I…! It's p-platonic!”

“relax, sheila, jus’ _ribbin’_ ya.” He chuckled, dropping his arm around your shoulders to squeeze you against his side in a playful hug. It felt like there might have been a noogie to go along with it if he had both arms.

You huffed in mock annoyance, burying your face in your phone to finish your conversation.

 

 **(xxx):** I will, not much planned but studying and Netflix anyway

 **BonyDanza:** i mean don’t be running around the quad like i saw last night.

 **(xxx):** that was...a cool down run.

 **BonyDanza:** ya did like 8 laps

 **(xxx):** ...you counted? Wait, how long were you watching me?

 **BonyDanza:** ...stay off the leg

 

He watched you stifle a giggle at Foxtrot’s messages.

Yeah, because that’s totally platonic.

Pffft, liar.

* * *

Oz woke with a start, the static of the tv bathing his living room in a dull white light. Confusion addled his brain for a long moment as he wondered why he had fallen asleep in here…

He sighed as you shifted against his chest sleepily, arms hooked securely around his ribcage as you snuggled into him. That's right, you had both been kinda freaked out by the last movie you had watched, having dared each other to sit through Human Centipede. Needless to say, he wasn’t a fan of torturous lab scenarios, and you hadn’t fared much better, burying your head against his shoulder during the particularly gnarly scenes.

Instead of heading back to your dorm, the two of you had opted to watch some silly movie or something, and you had promptly passed out. He wasn't far behind, and now here you were, dead to the world with your face smashed against his ribs.

He groaned a little, using his arm to leverage you into a more comfortable position, and then flopped back down with his face pressed into your hair.

No sense in waking you. He’d deal with the consequences in the morning, if there were any.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, Oz's condiment-jag is whipped cream.  
> Wonder how that might play in later *waggles eyebrows*

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Undertail University, as created by [Skelltales](https://skelltales.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! Thank you so much for allowing me to use them to write this!


End file.
